Outlook Good For Naked Mole Rats

Monday, Jul. 21, 2003 - 7:48 a.m.

Ever since I got the webcam, I've been receiving IMs from complete strangers, literally begging me to see me, and to watch them while they're blowing tadpoles at the stars. Frankly, I would really rather skip all of that nonsense, so I put a picture of a naked mole rat in my Yahoo Profile, and changed the text there to reflect my feelings about shebopping on the webcam. So far, so good. :)

When I told Jamie what I had done, with the picture of the mole rat, he piped up and said "Oh, -I- remember that movie!"

I thought a minute, and finally said, "No, dear, a MOLE RAT. Not 'Mallrats'."

And he sort of laughed and said "I'm sorry I'm a ditz."

I also laughed and said "Oh, I'm not sorry at all. It's part of your charm."

Paul fared a -wee- bit better. Since he has two children under the age of thirteen, he knew what a naked mole rat was because of Kim Possible. "You mean there really are things called 'mole rats'? Not just in the cartoons?"...

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I had a long one of Those Moments late last night, or early this morning, depending on what you call 2:30 a.m. in your neck of the woods. I deliberately played the Vince Clarke / Martyn Ware CD "Spectrum Pursuit Vehicle" to see what effect it has on me.

The good news is, I think I've turned the corner -- I'm progressing on my path away from the emotional upheaval I was put through at the hands of the impostor.

"Green - You Are In A Forest" still induces an overwhelming freightload of emotions. Those emotions are different each time, so, playing SPV has become sort of like shaking a Magic Eight Ball and waiting for the fortune to rise to the top. Most of the rest of Mr Clarke's work is something I am finally able to listen to again -- up to and including "Only You" -- but the extra chocolate caramel frosting part nowadays is that I can listen to it again without crying. :)

Sometimes I still cry. I cry for feeling so very stupid.

I'm honestly not sure I technically even had working brain cells six months ago. I was -that- fucking stupid.

Sometimes the angry helplessness still takes over -- because the Erasure impostor is still at large, and nobody in a position of any authority who has received his name from me and from others, has done anything to stop him yet.

But most of the time -- I think about the new friendships, the absolutely unrestricted and sometimes overwhelming love and affection and acceptance bestowed upon me by those new friends -- the healing, and the strength, and the fact that my work here and over on AOL may be keeping others from falling victim to online sociopaths, and I realize that if just -one person- is spared the atrocities and the enforced disassociation and the fright and the abject horror and the trauma and the feelings of helplessness that the impostor put me through? -- then baring my soul here has been worth it.

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I was talking to Paul the other night -- we're trying to get the details of my trip to SLC worked out -- and he said that what Richard Bach says is true, and he reminded me to think about it more often than I do. "Life will take care of you, if you let it."

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John is home from work today. He's having vision problems. "I can't see going into work today," he said. So he's called in, and he's back in bed.

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And finally -- Jamie is getting two things from me for his birthday this coming Monday the 28th. As soon as I figure out how to mail the one gift to him safely, out the door it goes. The other one is a virtual gift. Have fun puzzling, Jamie. "Better Not Tell You Now"... :)

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